Winter Guests...
by Negrath
Summary: A BG-story of a character I hope to post more of at a later time...in this little piece(the "preceeding stories to which will also arrive later(hopefully)), the group gets a surprise visit...
1. Default Chapter

Winter…  
  
Snow, Ice, cold; farmers taking their busy hands indoors, and the half ominous, half calming silence of nature taking a nap.  
  
Business going down in all places depending on a steady flow of customers, Negrath had closed up shop and returned to where he had originally planned to stay, before he found out that the nearby "farmer's village" were in need of a new tavern; de'Arnise Keep…  
  
-"Hey, Domo!" he saluted, walking briskly into the main "hall", "Any news for me?"  
  
-"None, My Lord," were the answer, as the aging man rose from the head table, reaching out to shake the Bhaalspawn's hand;  
  
-"And may I say we are all glad to once again have someone to serve in person," He smiled.  
  
-"…why? Where's Nalia?"  
  
-"She set out anew a good few months ago, my Lord. As she was the true ruler after all, I gathered I couldn't very well stop her, however much I feared she might be too brave…or, the gods forbid, follow her mother's mistake…" noticing the flare of cold in Negrath's eyes, he quickly added; "…in going too far, of course, not the "going" in itself. I simply hope for her to know when there can be no rescue, and that she is more valuable to us all alive than dead."  
  
After a considering pause, the Kensai nodded;  
  
-"So do I. Of course she did not mention when she would be back?"  
  
After his own little pause, the Major Domo managed a very commendable grin;  
  
-"Are you afraid she will come back and take the weight of leadership of your hands?"  
  
Chuckling, Negrath shook his head;  
  
-"The day that occurs, she is no longer the Nalia we all know and love; her take over here, and effectively have to stop doing her benevolent deeds? Not while that chair can continue to support me."  
  
-"Then," the Domo replied with a confident smile, all but falling onto the seat he had abandoned, "she will continue her good deeds long enough to not see the difference between me and my replacement by the time she stops."  
  
-"Benevolent deeds, Domo, does not always turn out to have been as good ideas as originally planned…" The Bhaalspawn cautioned silently.  
  
Smile gone, the Major Domo stood once more, almost casually offering the chair to his Lord;  
  
-"That, I believe, is the main difference between us…I'm too old for seeing the bare truth anymore."  
  
-"Nonsense!" the Kensai protested as he swung over the table and sat, exhaling as his body informed him that such stunts were frowned upon after so long away from the life of adventure…and proper youth.  
  
Nevertheless, he turned mischievous eyes on his number one servant;  
  
-"besides, the older and more intimidating a right hand man can be, the better for the ruler lending him their ear.  
  
And you, my friend, can be very intimidating indeed, when you want to."  
  
-"Can't everyone?" the man replied, seeming surprised that he should have any sort of special talent.  
  
-"Well, not if we don't go underground…or to see my wife."  
  
A companionable chuckle later, the godchild added; "of course, I seem to have come across more intimidating folk than most others I served in the tavern, but then one has to think of -what- I met as well as -who-;  
  
Every kind of beast in the book, and any number of humanoid curiosities; a berserk ranger protecting a Rashemite witch, and then a wingless Avariel, a half-elf Harper married to a courageous wimp, and any number of fellow Bhaalspawn.  
  
…but I can't say I've been very intimidated by your everyday townsman." He concluded, as though he should have reason to fear anyone not pointing a finger of death at him…  
  
  
  
-"Lord! Come quick!"  
  
-"What is it?" Negrath queried, putting down his knife and fork a little to quick.  
  
Idly hoping no irreparable damage was done, he followed the servant that had already returned from where he had come, from his wet appearance to be presumed as the roof or courtyard.  
  
Going for the easiest solution, he ran for the stairs to the roof, hearing Viconia in close pursuit, and Imoen at her heels.  
  
Once he had stepped over to the balcony, he gazed through the falling snow, seeing a mass of violent motion just the other side of the drawbridge.  
  
Feeling a timid tap on his shoulder, he turned to find the messenger standing behind him, appearing confused as to why he was on the roof.  
  
Disregarding the young man's confusion, the Kensai pointed to the half- obscured mass of motion outside the gate;  
  
-"Any of ours in that?"  
  
-"Well, yeah, the guard turned out to fight it, all who could be gotten on their feet and into their armor is out there, fighting…whatever it was called. I do not remember. Sorry, the confusion…"  
  
-"That's all right. Any chance whatever it is will turn on the farmers nearby if we call back our boys and close the gate?"  
  
-"I heard that was another part of the reason they attacked it."  
  
-"ANOTHER part? Is there more than two?"  
  
Looking at the Bhaalspawn in puzzlement, the young servant slapped a hand to his face with a groan; "I -KNEW- I forgot something!"  
  
Removing his hand, he stared at his master as though trying to will him to move before he said where to;  
  
-"There were a woman that were fighting them before. She seemed to be loosing badly, despite some pretty impressive moves. Likely a good ally, sir." He smiled, before blinking, and taking Negrath by the arm;  
  
-"Sorry, sir, but I was meant to take you directly to her, and, well, I…"  
  
-"Lead on." his Lord shooed him off, preparing to run ahead if he didn't get running right away.  
  
Taking the hint, the man simply stepped aside, watching as the three former adventurers hurried downstairs, before following a tad more sedately in his wet boots.  
  
…  
  
-"How is she?" Negrath queried, stepping inside the recently occupied guestroom and seating himself on a stool by the fireplace.  
  
-"I don't get it!" Imoen huffed, rarely having left the strange woman's side since they all but stumbled over her unconscious form in the hallway, any other servants that could have made her repose a little more comfortable having settled in their quarters 'til the battle outside were over; "I have spent more restorative magic on her these three days than I have seen spent on the entirety of our group back when we tried to take out those green groundworms…you know what I mean." She bit him off as he motioned to correct her, and went right ahead; "…and she could as well be Drow for all the good it does her!  
  
I had to use herbs to get any result at all!!!"  
  
Quite evidently, the mage, so connected to the ways of magic, did not like that fact one bit.  
  
-"Then perhaps Jaheira would be the one to call?" her brother carefully suggested.  
  
-"Too late now." The woman grinned, almost wickedly; "I got her sleeping with what I had, which seemed to slacken her resistance. Not enough for my spells to do all they might have been able to on yourself, for instance, but more than enough to ensure her survival…now her resistance is back up, and I can't even give her a bruise with my airhammer!"  
  
grinning ironically at his surprised look, she warned him; "don't ever think I would use that on a patient unless I was sure nothing short of it would work!"  
  
-"What about enchanted weapons?"  
  
-"Ordinary ones, such as a knife, are able to cut her skin, with some pressure, so I think enchanted weapons will work…insofar as they would without the enchantments, mind you."  
  
-"I'll mind." Her fellow orphan nodded, smiling.  
  
-"How long?" he then asked, standing to go.  
  
-"Sometime today, bro. Not right yet, though." She added with a chuckle as he moved to sit back down.  
  
-"Come back in the evening, and you'll probably be able to have a chat with her."  
  
-"As long as she's aware he's mine." The Drow stated mock(?) possessively as she leaned against a bedpost at the foot of the bed.  
  
The two Bhaalspawn blinking in unison, the three of them shared a brief chuckle.  
  
-"It wouldn't have mattered whether I were or not." It came from the bed, the resulting shocked turning of three heads toward the patient, she chuckled, sounding as if she was fighting a tone of derision from becoming too evident.  
  
Moving to stand opposite Imoen, Negrath looked down at the woman that had caused the mage so much irritation.  
  
Gazing back with supreme calm, despite her prolonged stay in bed, and previous woeful state, she simply waited for him to talk.  
  
Instead, Viconia leaned over the foot end to speak first;  
  
-"How so!?"  
  
The other woman simply looked back at her, as though trying to decide whether she knew herself or not.  
  
-"It just wouldn't." She finally replied.  
  
Turning to Negrath, she gave a slight smirk, as though quoting a line too often repeated;  
  
-"Sorry, but you're really not my type."  
  
This supplying her first proper look at him, she seemed to briefly reconsider, before, with a quick glance at Viconia, dismissing the whole discussion.  
  
Her casual dismissal had the air of one not avoiding trouble for the trouble's sake, but because she could not be bothered to deal with it.  
  
-"And you," the Drow then stated, rising to look at her Lifemate; "had better not adapt into her "type". Am I clear!?"  
  
-"As the night sky on a cloudless night." he chuckled.  
  
-"Boo says…" a familiar voice boomed through the hallway, before a large shape filled the door, and stopped.  
  
With a low, rumbling chuckle, Minsc looked to his fist, as though conversing briefly with the small creature that rested in it, before turning back to the others in the room, grinning;  
  
-"Boo says he glad friend Negrath's luck stays true."  
  
-"…"  
  
As if to explain, the ranger lifted his free hand, counting off the females in the room;  
  
-"one…two…THREE! And you the only boy! Dynaheir would have something to say about that, yes she would…Boo?"  
  
Trying to ignore Viconia's suspicious glare at him, "the rooster" found himself once again sensing the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he knew what went on between the two never-apart companions, as he saw what appeared to be the rodent agreeing with the berserker's assessment of Dynaheir's observations, and then appeared to remind the large man of something…the image only enhanced by the same man's head bobbing in slightly shamed agreement.  
  
Negrath shivered.  
  
-"Boo first wanted to say that we heard there was a brave woman warrior in the castle, set upon by grim creatures beyond comprehension, and single- handedly slew half of them!?!"  
  
-"Yes, I guess you could put it that way." Negrath acquiesced, just as Viconia huffed;  
  
-"She took on a veritable army of Ogres that just happened to be itching for a fight. Guess they got their due for fighting on our land, but I hardly think she did all that much in actually taking them out herself…am I right?" she queried, turning back to the patient in the bed, professional interest taking over as real curiosity made its presence known on her face.  
  
-"Yes." Were the simple answer, before she continued, Viconia's expression of interest fading by the word; "they mostly took out each other as long as they were many enough to crowd me.  
  
Seeing how they disregarded that fact, though, I found it refreshing not to have to hold back, and took out some five or six of them before those dung- beetles stole my sword!"  
  
-"Five or six? But Boo heard…"  
  
-"What "Boo" heard was probably right," the stranger nodded slowly, sending the giant an odd look, before continuing; "it has been a very long time indeed since I could fight without caring whether I hurt or kill. That little skirmish actually spurred me on for a while. Grounded another four."  
  
-"With bare hands?!?!?"  
  
Suddenly brimming with interest, the Drow shoved her husband aside, to kneel beside the other end of the bed.  
  
-"Well, my tailbiting snake took at least two of them, and severely hurt a few others I heard, but I got knocked aside as I tried to catch it again.  
  
Four pairs of eyes sending her confused looks had her fighting not to laugh;  
  
-"My round killing thing. Most effective when the enemy thinks I've played my last card…"  
  
Sighing, she seemed to fall in on herself; "I'm not whole without it, strange as it may sound…it's just a weapon, after all…"  
  
-"Not feeling whole without a thing of some importance in a fight? Join the club. I'd show you why, but I'm not particularly murderous right now. Sorry."  
  
Looking like she tries to find out whether or not she's the victim of some odd joke, she judges the others amused, slightly sad reactions, and replies; "I'm sorry for your loss, then."  
  
-"Oh, it's not lost…almost wish it were, but it's not…it were once, and that was plenty enough!"  
  
-"Then you know what I'm talking about. Think you could help me find it?"  
  
-"Think I already have. I'll speak with the Domo, see what they found out in the "battlefield"."  
  
-"…thanks."  
  
-"No problem. And I'm Negrath…just Negrath."  
  
-"Imoen." Added Imoen, as sprightly as had they yet to leave Candlekeep.  
  
-"Minsc, and Boo." The ranger introduced, holding out his arm for his friend to say hello;  
  
-"Squeak."  
  
-"And I'm Viconia. Ask for my last name, and you won't get out of that bed for another week. There's plenty of other amusing folks for you to meet, but I daresay we are the ones you are best served knowing. Mention mine or my husband's name, and there will be little that is blocked for you. You may have to wait for a servant to check with us, but with a bit of patience, that should go fine. Any questions?"  
  
-"…What are you?"  
  
-"I could show you…?" Viconia deVir snarled, before reining herself in…with an effort;  
  
-"I'm…sorry. You are not from around here, are you?"  
  
-"Can't say I am. Never saw such ugly mugs in my life…past or future." The other woman grinned ironically.  
  
-"By the way, I'm Xena."  
  
  
  
………………………………….  
  
  
  
-"No doubt you would need a bit of proper rest now, though, right?" Imoen queried, giving the rest as stern a look as she was able, clearing a slight space around the bed.  
  
-"No," Xena replied, sitting up.  
  
The cover held up with one hand she looked at the mage with a slight smirk;  
  
-"But I would like to know where my clothes are…and a chance to get into them."  
  
-"Sure, they're in the cabinet." Her 'doctor' replied, hurriedly conjuring an aerial servant to 'guide' the others out, and guard the door, as she followed her own instructions…  
  
Opening the wooden container, she extracted a well-kept set of leather body- armor, huffing at the full weight of it as she leaned it against a nearby wall.  
  
-"I wore more than that, didn't I?" the warrior woman queried, sounding genuinely puzzled.  
  
Chuckling, Imoen grinned as she nodded;  
  
-"Not much, though."  
  
As the mage turned to look at her, not very surprised to see her patient standing right behind her, Xena smiled thinly, gesturing at her legs;  
  
-"Any more, and I wouldn't have been able to get the most out of these."  
  
Though the limbs in question seemed plenty strong to present a threat, Imoen told herself she 'had seen better'…a mental chastisement later, she silently added '…mostly on men, though…'  
  
-"You sure they're worth the lack of proper protection?"  
  
-"Girl, these are more 'proper' protection than a some sheets of metal would ever manage to be," were the grinning reply, the warrior maneuvered around the mage, to get the rest of her clothes.  
  
Making a silent promise to herself that what she had seen during the last few minutes would never be reproduced in her 'illustrated tales' down at the tavern, Imoen sat down on the bed to watch and, if necessary, aid in the equipping of the woman's armor.  
  
By the time she stood to offer her assistance, Xena had already turned back, evidently judging the job done.  
  
-"I thought I saw some that would also need to be arranged…"  
  
Walking around behind her patient, she made a few hook-ups that appeared as though they had not been together in ages.  
  
-"You must have known they were there?" the mage wondered as they faced each other once more…  
  
-"It's long since I found I didn't strictly need them done."  
  
-"But why then keep them, other than to risk unnecessary problems?"  
  
-"For when I need to make someone feel useful." The other woman smiled, a sad glimmer in her eyes.  
  
Figuring that the guest was not of the sort to take well to forced confessions, Imoen decided to distract the warrior by having another aerial servant close the cabinet for them.  
  
As the container bumped closed, Xena gazed levelly at the mage;  
  
-"Any other tricks up your sleeve?"  
  
-"Tricks up my sleeve?" The lesser Bhaalspawn grinned, arms extended;  
  
-"I've been told that of those, there can be no end!"  
  
At the end of her "proclamation", seemingly unending streams of tiny, humanoid figures literally flowed from the sleeves of her many-colored mage- robes, hit the floor, and took to running all over the place;  
  
Climbing the furniture, playing practical jokes on each other, engaging in smaller fights, and gathering in small flocks that occasionally emitted a barking, high-pitched laugh.  
  
All intended for the production of immense amusement…for those who were aware of what her sort -could- have done…  
  
-"Keep your underlings to yourself!" Her patient exclaimed, backing away from her, toward the cabinet; "They come near me, and they die!"  
  
Pointing wordlessly, Imoen directed her attention to the trio currently busy scaling the cabinet doors.  
  
In a matter of seconds, they were piles of flesh and blood dripping to the floor…or would have been, had they not disappeared in a puff of illusory smoke upon encountering forceful contact.  
  
Looking over her shoulder, the mage guided the other woman's gaze toward the growing group of combatants at the foot end of the bed, drawing participants from every corner of the room, yet steadily decreasing in size…  
  
As the numbers decreased to one, the 'victor' lifted it's arms in the air, emitted a triumphant yell…and 'poofed'.  
  
Turning back to her guest, Imoen found one very still, most speechless warrior princess still staring at the point the little fellow had vanished.  
  
-"A simple illusion, nothing more." The merry mage explained, reaching out a hand, palm up.  
  
The 'victorious one' popping into existence on it, she added;  
  
-"A good deal more detailed than your average disguise, though…wouldn't you agree?"  
  
At Xena's unblinking gaze, the little creature blinked, as though wondering what she was staring at.  
  
Sniffing it's armpits quizzically*, it retched, and disappeared.  
  
Jumping slightly, the warrior woman gave a snort of amusement.  
  
-"And that," Imoen immediately pointed out, "would be the intended reaction, the only point to their existence."  
  
With a grin, Xena pointed out;  
  
-"Pretty good distraction, though, isn't it?"  
  
-"Nah." The mage shook her head as her exact replica appeared beside her;  
  
-"For distraction," the copy appeared to say, "I would do something like this:"  
  
As the two of them made a slight gesture, The warrior princess found herself almost nose to nose with a small, draconic head that seemed to be hanging upside down…  
  
Waiting for it to go 'poof', she almost fell flat on her backside when it bit her nose!  
  
-"Shame on you!" the mage shouted at the little dragon as it took off from Xena's head to land on the shoulder of it's keeper.  
  
Smiling apologetically as her copy(having traded places with her while the dragon distracted Xena) went up in the familiar puff of smoke, causing the warrior to blink in confusion even as she rubbed her nose, Imoen shrugged;  
  
-"He wasn't supposed to do that…sorry."  
  
  
  
  
  
I seem to have trouble getting the visitor out into the rest of the Keep…Will do my best for the next part, which probably won't be all that long… :P  
  
  
  
*: Those who know what I'm talking about, think "Sim in need of a bath"… 


	2. Chapter 2

-"Like the view?"  
  
Startled, the female warrior, having been busy studying the surrounding lands from the top of the left guard tower, spun around, blade just barely halting at the throat of the black-skinned Lady of the Keep.  
  
Gazing down at the blade, shimmering in the winter sun, the Drow did not appear to be all that impressed;  
  
-"Nice. You don't have many friends, do you?"  
  
-"I've only needed to care about 2 on any one occasion for the last 20 years. Every now and then, a few others mess up my style. Otherwise, it's a pretty safe bet that someone approaching me from behind is either very new to this…the place where I used to live, or of very little intelligence."  
  
-"My, aren't we boastful!" Viconia grinned, somehow managing to be both menacing and companionable in doing so…  
  
-"I've had it explained from most believable sources, Lady. I'd be happy to demonstrate…?"  
  
-"The courtyard in a quarter of an hour."  
  
Xena simply nodding, the dark elf jumped backwards off their tall perch, spinning upon landing, and giving a theatrical bow to the penned-in dogs, Looking up in surprise as the other woman dropped down beside her, equally light-footed.  
  
Smirking at how equal in skill they appeared to be, the Lady of the Keep ran to get her adventurer's gear…this was going to be fun!  
  
…  
  
Fifteen minutes later, give or take a few seconds, the two fierce females returned, exiting through separate doors, decked up in equipment they both knew as intimately as only life-long users could know them.  
  
Ignoring the minor amount of servants having gathered on the battlements, and equally uncaring that the Lord of the keep and his sister watched from the roof, they paid only minor heed to the fact that Minsc stood beneath, exactly between the doors, evidently having taken it upon himself to make sure the approaching affair did not get out of hand.  
  
Momentarily stopping on opposite sides of the closed gate, they immediately started circling each other, stepping in close for an intentional miss every now and again, each occasionally complimenting the others skill with a casual grin, neither quite willing to be the aggressor.  
  
  
  
-"She does not seem to be quite the Drow I know." Imoen commented, looking down at the combatants with the ease of one who would never have to fear the object of her attention. Throwing a glance over at her friend and brother, she gives a slight smile of amusement at his evident discomfort at the Drow's behavior…  
  
-"I never told her to hold back…only take a closer look at what she attacks."  
  
-"Well, I daresay she sure is trying to get a better look than most." The mage-thief quipped, as the two fighting below stepped apart once more.  
  
-"And I can't very well tell her to "stop playing", now can I?"  
  
-"No, that would not prove very hospitable at all." Imoen chuckled, before shouting;  
  
-"Get at it, then!"  
  
  
  
Momentarily glancing up, the warrior women smiled…  
  
-"Holding back?" Xena queried, never ceasing her circling, yet ever decreasing the distance between them.  
  
-"Why?" Viconia threw back, copying her "opponent" step for step; "we got the best healer in all of Amn at our disposal. Don't worry." The Drow concluded, grinning.  
  
-"I won't." Came the reply, a dangerous light appearing in her eyes as her blade came, intent on getting it's favorite food…blood.  
  
…  
  
  
  
-"Phew! That was close." The spellcaster on the roof exclaimed, as hammer met blade for the umpteenth time.  
  
Smiling wryly, her brother shook his head; "It's as if they're still playing at it…I'm pretty sure they can both do better…and neither appear tired…?"  
  
-"Oh, yes. That would be me." Imoen smiled, apologetically; "Couldn't have either of them win because of the other fell asleep, now could we?"  
  
"…granted," she then added, looking sideways at her fellow godchild with a grin; "They'll both be needing extensive bed-rest afterwards…"  
  
-"Don't look at me like that! What the hells do you think I am?!?" Negrath demanded to know, turning toward her, the battle below momentarily forgotten.  
  
-"A human male, married to a Drow." The mage replied casually, gazing royally down at the two in the courtyard;  
  
-"I've seen people helplessly addicted to far worse things than that…"  
  
Glancing at him, cheeks burning as he returned his attention to the "ring", she laughed out loud…  
  
  
  
Torches having been lighted, the servants asleep, and Minsc chatting with his hamster, the two warriors, breathing hard despite Imoen's spells, had long ago resorted to the basic outbursts of angry predators, attack following attack almost without any thought of defense at all… .  
  
One heavy hammer hitting the ground, Viconia shouted incoherently, withdrawing as she finally understood that the light in the other woman's eyes were not the mere joy of combat, but a thirst for conquest that made all possibility for the battle to end without deaths next to impossible.  
  
  
  
-"She withdraws?!?" Imoen wondered, puzzled in the extreme. As far as she knew, the Drow would rather have fallen where she stood, dragging her opponent down with her had she not had direct orders to the opposite from someone she found worth obeying.  
  
-"I should think the encounter would have ended upon one's retreat…" her childhood friend pondered, before bending over the wall to shout at Minsc…just as the large barbarian shot from beneath the overhang to grab the human by the hair, and put his blade to her throat, at the other end of the yard, reprimanding squeaks thrown back from the alcove of the gate- hole…  
  
Viconia, held up against the gate pretty much by the swordpoint at her throat alone, wheezed a hoarse thanks, staring with uncharacteristic fear into the eyes of the previously so controlled warrior princess, who snarled at the ranger behind her, but kept perfectly still…evidently, her thirst for conquest did not blank out her knowledge of when to do what…or not.  
  
Imoen lifting them both to the ground, Negrath hurried over to the frozen group, the mage smoothly freeing the Drow from her predicament intending to guide her to the master bedroom, while the Kensai grabbed Xena's hand, and plucked the blade from her suddenly limp digits.  
  
Nodding at the barbarian, he watched as Minsc re-sheathed his sword, and shifted his grip to hold the woman's arms instead, face like a thundercloud; guest or not, one did not even try to hurt his friends without somehow regretting it, if he had anything to say in the matter…which he no doubt would have.  
  
Studying the woman's face as the almost insane glare at him slowly diminished, Negrath found himself wondering what sort of life created such a strange warrior… "and a woman, of all things…" he thought shamefully, remembering in one instant several females who had either helped or hindered him immeasurably.  
  
His guest going completely limp in the rangers hands, evidently barely able to keep her head up, he glanced down at her legs; exposed, sweat still drying in the torchlight, but appearing able to have gone on for several hours yet.  
  
Noticing the detour of his eyes, she smiled tiredly;  
  
-"You noticed that, did you?" she whispered, the moment before the aforementioned limbs flew up, giving a good shot at kicking him through the thick, weather-beaten wood of the gate.  
  
With a roar, Minsc lifted her high overhead, turned around, and threw her forcefully at the inner wall.  
  
Despite the damages the impact no doubt caused, she nevertheless grabbed her "round, killing thing" off it's holder, and tossed it straight at the ranger's head.  
  
A sharp "squeak", and the large warrior, instead of meeting the whirling object with his blade, dove sideways, causing the thing to get stuck in the wood of the gate, mere inches above the Keep-lord's head, him having risen from having regained his breath, and spent what little healing ability he had on his inner wounds.  
  
-"MINSC!" he yelled, seeing the Rashemite all but flying across the yard, hollering his charge…  
  
The limp form by the wall lifted for another throw, the large man froze, standing still for a moment, before looking over his shoulder as Negrath approached;  
  
-"No?"  
  
Shaking his head so as to leave no doubt, the Kensai repeated the query as a statement; "No."  
  
Arms shaking momentarily, unwilling to obey that particular decision, the ranger shifted grip on the woman, and turned to carry her inside…  
  
  
  
…………  
  
  
  
-"Quite the unusual one, are you not?" a gruff, female voice came from the corner of the familiar bedroom.  
  
-"Ahhh, who…who…are you?" the warrior woman, once again prone in the bed, well aware of unmended bones and hundreds of small hurts, wondered.  
  
-"Who I am is none of your concern." Was the decisive reply, leaving no room for discussion before the other moved on; "You may call me Jaheira. I'm here because of your somewhat peculiar resistance to the healing magics our little mageling has bathed you in. The magical residue when I entered the room, almost knocked me back out…and it takes a lot of spells to even make such an element noticeable to the most talented of mages…not that I am one. Have that perfectly clear."  
  
-"Then how…"  
  
-"Some would call me a lesser spellcaster. Personally, I would call it a different sort of spellcaster. Never mind that. Why did you almost kill Viconia, when you were only to test who were superior?"  
  
-"…I don't want to talk about it." The patient-once-more mumbled, eyes turned inward, appearing unwilling to discuss the topic further.  
  
-"Well, then this is not your day. I'm not leaving until you do."  
  
A wry smile forming on her lips, Xena said nothing.  
  
-"You had better start talking, warrior queen. I've been accused of being quite stubborn, and intend to not let you sleep until you talk."  
  
-"Princess."  
  
-"What?"  
  
-"I'm called the Warrior Princess."  
  
-"Then there do exist a queen?"  
  
-"As far as I know, the only one to have claimed that title, is currently buried under a ton or two of rocks." The warrior grinned, somehow, sadly amused at the thought.  
  
-"And you put her there?"  
  
-"Yeah, it would appear to have been my turn back then."  
  
-"…your turn?"  
  
-"It's a little game I have with a friend of mine…we try to see who can cover the girl in rocks more often."  
  
-"…???  
  
I take it she is rather…peculiar, as well, then?"  
  
-"You could say that…the friend I spoke of were once fool enough to let her eat an apple."  
  
As the Druid's puzzlement grew even greater, the bed's occupant burst in laughter, a laughter which only unkind quality would appear to have been ingrained in the woman's voice. Clearly, she rarely had had need to speak anything softer than insults.  
  
-"Now, listen…" Jaheira then growled, rising from her chair in the corner, moving to stand beside the bed;  
  
-"I don't like being lied to…regardless of the amusement-value to the liar!"  
  
-"No lies, no lies…it was also quite the "peculiar" -apple-, see?"  
  
Blinking, then staring suspiciously into the other woman's calm, honest gaze, despite occasional chuckles, the druid returned to her chair, shaking her head…**what a odd place she must come from…** she thought, leaning back against the wall, waiting for the fellow fighter to continue talking…  
  
-"She's immortal, the apple was of a -very- healthy tree, and she is who she is because of me…well, because of what almost killed your friend, to be specific."  
  
Having made a brief, almost instinctive snort at the word "friend", Jaheira simply waited, arms across her chest, the perfect image of the sort of stoic impatience that would have been able to outlast the Realms, given the chance…  
  
Sighing, Xena continued;  
  
-"Her name is Callisto…and her only goal in life is pretty flexible…as long as it at all times includes my suffering…I killed her village.  
  
No," she added as the druid opened her mouth to correct the fighter; "I killed -the village-. Razed it to the ground. The one so often buried in stony graves, yet not, is the only known survivor…She watched me, me, my sword, my horse, my armor, my face…kill her family. Personally.  
  
Or," the patient smiles thinly, disbelieving her implied doubt; "at least, so she says…"  
  
-"I can understand such a one would be intent on destroying your life…and may I assume she would need extensive training to beat you even then?"  
  
-"It has been long indeed since I met an ordinary, human opponent I could not dance circles around, while chopping him apart."  
  
-"Really?" the druid queried, patent sarcasm dripping from every letter.  
  
-"…aside from the odd emperor of Rome."  
  
-"…Rome?"  
  
-"Never mind. You'll never get there, unless you follow me when I return…if I at all will be able to…and I most definitely must return swiftly."  
  
-"Husband? Children?"  
  
-"If only it was that easy…" the warrior sneered. Sitting up in bed with some difficulty, she explained;  
  
"Callisto killed my son, and my closest companion back home is a woman."  
  
-"Are you sure that none of your…connections followed you here?"  
  
-"…no…"  
  
-"Well, then. Let me get Imoen, and we'll soon have that little obstacle solved."  
  
…  
  
Looking about as the strange woman left in search of the odd female sorcerer, Xena could not but wonder;  
  
Where was she?  
  
Not anywhere she had previously been, though it fitted pretty much with some lands she had visited…none she had been anywhere near at the time of "travel", though…the details of that little event were still fuzzy in her mind…  
  
When she had looked out at the surrounding lands earlier…when was that, anyway? Days ago? Hours?  
  
Shaking her head, she continued her pondering on things tolerable…  
  
When looking out beyond the walls of the Keep, she had almost expected her friends to come running up the road, eager to "save" her from the "fiends" that had "captured" her…even if it only had been Joxer…  
  
Grinning to herself, she hummed a few lines of the "mighty" warrior's self- invented song, stopping when she found it brought tears to her eyes…as though it had been a memory of one she would never see again…  
  
Leaning back onto the pillow, she sighed in wry amusement…that one would likely survive them all…  
  
As she lay thus, remembering her friends, and wondering if they had indeed "traveled" with her, the door opened, and the woman in the curious robes sailed in, more fit to the profession of a royal fool than a mage…and the "doctor's" most expressive fingers led the warrior princess to believe she had also played around in the thieving arena…  
  
-"So we're wondering where our friends are, do we?" Imoen quipped unnecessarily, moving to sit in empty air by the bed, and took Xena's hand.  
  
Studying it intently, she suddenly gasped, lifting it for the warrior to see for herself;  
  
-"Are you a human or a cat?!?"  
  
Answers made void by the following chuckle as the she let go of Xena's hand, Imoen stood, and moved to the foot-end of the bed, closed her eyes…and stood perfectly still.  
  
Lifting her hands a few moments later, the Chakram materializing as though from nothing, she gazed levelly at the woman in the bed;  
  
-"Some of whom you are connected are indeed in this Realm…not all that far away, either…a few days march east is one, and two more yet another day's walk to the north-west.  
  
Not all…equally friendly."  
  
At this last, Imoen opened her eyes and looked at her patient with slightly anxious eyes;  
  
-"As my magic seems not to accept you, and supposedly yours, as valid targets, I was wondering…would you be able to take your…less friendly friends?"  
  
-"In a minute." Xena guaranteed, gesturing casually in dismissal of the mage's concern.  
  
-"Should we gather them?"  
  
-"If you like. I and my friends seem to get together whenever or wherever a large group is necessary, either way..." The warrior princess smiled humorously. 


	3. More Visitors

The courtyard of de'Arnise Keep... The angry noise of steel on steel, grunts of effort and boots shuffling in the sand...  
  
"Why don't you give it up, dear?" Callisto grinned, confident as ever, despite her opponent still defiantly standing her ground.  
  
"You first." Xena retorted in kind.  
  
"Come now, you know you can't win!" came the reply, sudden anger twisting her features momentarily as she chopped with determination.  
  
Moving in what appeared to be a familiar pattern, Xena deflected the half- wild swings, and then stopped. Looking evenly at her opponent, having stopped to catch a breath she had given no sign of loosing, she commented; "You saying you can?"  
  
A genuinely amused laugh the spectators would almost call companionable, and Callisto resheated her sword; "But that is why I love fighting you so  
  
much...it's the only challenge I got left!"  
  
"I can belive that..." Negrath muttered, causing his resident mage to blink, and look at him, humor sparkling in her eyes; "You mean she'd beat  
  
you too?" she wanted to know.  
  
Viconia snapped her head around to look at him as well, at that, and he swallowed with a nervousness he hadn't felt in years... "Of course not." He replied, his wife's snort and Imoen's chuckle telling him exactly how convincing he had been.  
  
"Care to back that up, chief?" Callisto queried then, gesturing at Xena; "Switch places with her, and let's get at it. This'll be fun!"  
  
"Callisto..." Xena warned, her blade still in hand.  
  
"Oh, hush up." The blonde waved her off, "I won't kill him. Perhaps only a  
bit of maiming..."  
  
"No maiming!" Imoen objected, annoyed that it came out insufferably close to a childish whine.  
  
"This ends at first blood." Viconia added, catching her otherworldly collegue's eyes, and holding them until convinced her message had carried through; the only maiming in the Keep would be her work!  
  
"Fine by me." Callisto acknowledged somewhat mutedly, before returning her attention to Negrath; "You comin'?"  
  
A glance at Imoen, and he could pluck his favorite blade from the air, discarding the(to him) largely ornamental thing he carried in his belt. Striding over to Xena, he smiled reassuringly; "It's OK. She won't survive killing me." The comment seeming to surprise his intended opponent, she turned her head to look at Imoen, peered at Viconia, then glanced about the walls; the guards patrolling them had turned their attention inward the moment her challenge was heard.  
  
Returning her attention to the Lord at long last, she smiled with bored arrogance as her blade left its sheath; "As I said; this will be fun."  
  
Negrath, unable to stop himself from swallowing once more, wondered with idle irritation when he'd become such a wimp. He'd faced fire-giants, dragons and demons from every realm worth mentioning...and he should fear a human girl from some similar reality? And yet, he realized with a start as he remembered her grin that first day, he feared her a great deal... Telling himself he did so because Xena, being the other world's version of him, had so great difficulty getting a victory over her, he swung his blade a few times to get reaquainted with it...a motion his opponent seemed to take as an invitation; with a yell she charged, and he found himself backstepping wildly both to maintain his balance and to keep sufficient distance for his blade to matter in the affair. "Not one for finesse, are you?" he wheezed a few moments later, striving to hold his ground as she pounded at him.  
  
"Do you want me to be?" she shot back, surprising him with a swipe that disarmed him before he even knew there was a danger of it.  
  
Falling onto his back, he lifted his hands in surrender. As she let her swordtip slide toward his throat, the 'yard resounded of bowstrings being  
  
stretched to capacity, and Viconia cursed as she lunged toward the combatants.  
  
"Very well." Callisto muttered, not appearing to have noticed either event, resheathing her blade even as Negrath closed his eyes in furious defeat. Blinking, he stared up at her without understanding, and she smirked; "I said I wouldn't kill you, didn't I? Get up." Hauling him to his feet almost against his will, she was promptly slammed to the ground herself; Viconia glared daggers down at her.  
  
"How is that possible? WHAT are you?!?!?"  
  
"A deluded woman, trying to ruin Xena's good name." Gabrielle spoke up unexpectedly, stepping back a bit as a variety of gazes flashed her way.  
  
"Not that it was so 'good' back when I first saw her." The blonde warrior commented wryly, tossing the dark elf off of her. Rolling to her feet, Viconia hissed dangerously, but then turned a frown on Negrath, who still strived to catch up on events as he looked back and forth in confusion.  
  
"As for what I am," Callisto added, "I'm as human as she is...I think."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Gabrielle wanted to know, having remained silent and unmoving up to that point.  
  
"It means that no-one is that good by themselves."  
  
"You are as good." Xena retorted, well aware of the various opinions that existed regarding her origin.  
  
"I'm better!" Callisto shot back with glee, looking to Viconia as the drow demanded to know what that made her. "Good question, that." She acknowledged evenly, before gracelessly getting to her feet and dusting off her hands; "Let me know if you find the answer."  
  
The next instant they were disturbed by a curious duo rolling in through the open gate; in a mix of brown and yellow, what seemed to be a pair of animals slashed and growled at each other in a manner that made it unlikely that either would survive very long...but when they separated explosively, the larger slamming bodily into the wall beside the gate, both flashed to their feet with no more problems than strained breathing, wholly unaware of their audience. Two remarkable creatures, they were; one comparatively short and stocky, but with the smooth motions of a hunting predator and the claws to match, the other with a body mass that made Minsc look normal, and exhibiting a feral rage to rival the Slayer. They both did, Negrat realized a moment later as they circled and he got a better look at the lesser of the two. With a start, he found that the growls mainly came from him, eyes narrowed and unblinking on the other, both itching for a rematch.  
  
"Excuse me..." the Lord of the Keep commented, unsure whether attracting the attention of either was all that wise. The glares that swung his way almost convinced him that they'd gang up on him and his, and then continue as if nothing had happened. As they returned to their staring match, he did not dare to sigh his relief quite yet.  
  
"Seems we got an audience." The larger, apparently yellow-furred beastman quipped derisively. "Guess that means you'll go all chicken again, eh?"  
  
"Just get out of here. I'll deal with you later. Count on it."  
  
The smaller 'creature's' tone was even, his gaze no less focused. The tension in him told everyone there that he did not expect his opponent to back off just by that.  
  
"Oh, I will." Mr yellow snarled in gleeful anticipation, "This ain't over 'til one of us lies dead."  
  
Bounding out through the gate, he returned almost immediately, slamming into the wall next to the dogpen, and was promptly made the recipient of  
  
more power than Negrath had seen come from the sky in his entire life. "Sheesh! You could 'ave waited!" the woman that had returned him, in a full- covering black suit and green vest, yelled at someone as yet unseen. Striding through the gate the next moment were a lady that could be none other than their leader; her regal bearing only enhanced by her coloration(unique to the group at large at this point) and the curious way in which her surprisingly white hair rose from her scalp along the middle...and Negrath felt uncomfortably sure that the life around the keep was going to be a whole lot stranger very soon...  
  
"It's clean." A brown-haired girl in a (to Negrath & co)singular all- blue outfit commented, stepping out of the Keep wall. The Bhaalspawn did a double take; yes indeed - no doors anywhere nearby.*  
  
"Second floor as well." A curious-looking fellow in red-and-black agreed, and the whole group turned toward him, some in surprise, some in worry as  
  
he coughed and stumbled, a just as curious-looking tail weaving unsteadily.  
  
"You all right, Kurt?" the Leader queried, even as Imoen took a step toward him to help.  
  
"No, I'm fine...just...a lot of 'porting."  
  
The three first guests staring in steadily increasing surprise as each made their entrance, the original keep-inhabitants merely observed, curious as to what would be next...  
  
"I would tell you not to be afraid, but as I can tell you're not, I'll instead advise you not to try anything aggressive."  
  
The now quite remarkable group turning all eyes on the new arrival, the last visitors moved to gather about him; a bald, relatively old man in a curious contraption that did not seem to touch the ground and dressed in what Negrath recognized as some odd form of formal suit. Behind him, on either side was a man with something over his eyes a gnome had probably invented for some reason, and a red-haired woman in the same form- fitting black that covered the other from feet to neck.  
  
"And you are?" Negrath queried, finally spying a source of information that did not appear as if they'd look straight through him. ('perhaps I ought to  
  
go out and slay some more world-eaters' he thought wryly)  
  
"Charles Xavier." The man in the floating-thing replied, proceeding to introduce the others; as their names were given, each gave a nod of acknowledgement...some even smiled.  
  
The regal, brownskinned woman were 'Storm'...and apparently under his command. 'Battle leader' Negrath reasessed. The blackclad woman with the forceful entrance were 'Rogue', who gave the impression of being quite the Independent...the white stripe splitting her dark, brownish hair down the middle striking Negrath as some odd simile to Storm's. He reckoned it best not to ask about that. The wall-exiter was 'Kitty Pryde', and from the look on her face as she was introduced, Negrath surmised that something was missing from her complete immersion with the rest of them...the double name notwithstanding.  
  
The one earlier referred to as 'Kurt', was now introduced as 'Nightcrawler'. Negrath found it far too fitting for comfort.  
  
The two behind Charles were 'Cyclops' and 'Jean Grey'.  
  
('Another double name, yet she seems not to mind', Negrath pondered. Evidently she had other ties to the group...hence her place with Charles?)  
  
"And this little charmer," Rogue interjected when the turn came to the stocky fellow(now, curiously, without claws), patting him upside the head; "Is Wolverine. Generally it's a bad idea to get in our way...it's a REALLY bad idea to get in his."  
  
"Acknowledged." Negrath nodded, idly noticing the familiar tone as the group momentarily spoke amongst themselves. Regrouping?  
  
"And that fried fellow over there?" Imoen wanted to know, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder at the more unfortunate visitor.  
  
"That's Sabretooth." Storm volunteered, giving the still-smoking body a  
  
studying look.  
  
"He's out still." Jean offered, as if it didn' really matter, though she  
  
too sent the large man a cautious glance.  
  
"I'll say!" Viconia exclaimed, "The heavens near tore him apart!"  
  
"Not the heavens, girl." Wolverine grinned, nodding at Storm; "Just your  
  
everyday weather godess."  
  
"And not apart, either." Rogue added, shooting the smoking mass a disgusted look; "Darn bastard got healing to rival claw-boy, here." Again, attention  
  
was directed at Wolverine in a manner Negrath considered derisive.  
  
Evidently, the man did not care. Far would it be it from Negrath to assume by that that it was allowed for  
  
anyone else.  
  
"You saying he still lives?" Viconia queried, in tones that signified  
  
interest warring with fear.  
  
"You just wait, and he'll be tearing through the countryside as though he'd  
  
never gotten a stubbed toe." Rogue confirmed.  
  
"Is there then NOTHING..."  
  
"Wolverine can hold him busy for as long as it takes...though we've never really let them play out their game." Storm replied evenly, then smiled;  
  
"Don't worry. We won't let him go anywhere he's not supposed to. He was  
  
dangerous enough when he was still part of a group, and had a leader.  
  
Now..."  
  
"He has neither." Xena concluded for her.  
  
Turning to her, Storm studied her for a moment, then smiled anew; "Why do I  
  
think you're as alien here as we are?"  
  
"Because she's been on the telly every saturday?" Rogue quipped, then added; "Not that anyone cared enough to watch unless there was nothing else  
  
on...which there usually wasn't...on tv."  
  
"Yeah, football tends to get lame once you get used to being pummeled by crazies like that." Wolverine contributed, gesturing at Sabretooth, who had  
  
startedto emit low groans. "Hey!"  
  
Crossing the distance in two leaps, his claws flashing out, Wolverine crouched over the prone form, and gave it a swift kick; "Get up. No way I'm leaving you to rest once you can stand. And if you can talk, you can stand. UP!" The responding low rumble of a growl could be heard to the other end of the yard, before Wolverine returned the gesture with barely restrained fury, silencing him.  
  
Rogue flew over to peer down at Sabretooth with a look of mock- disappointment on her face; "Really, Sab, you were brought down once, you can be brought down again. Be a good boy and get up. Or do you want to give Wolvie a free shot?" That got him on his feet, swiping at them both. A bolt of energy slamming into the wall next to him called his attention to the fact that the rest of the group had arrived; Negrath whipped his head around to catch Cyclops lower his hand from his eyes.  
  
('So...no gnomework, that.' He thought, adding wryly; 'No turnips') After a moment of studying the assembled group, Sabertooth lifted his arms with a mocking grin(the gesture reminded Negrath more of a rearing bear than a beaten criminal); "Sure, why not. Not like I got a say in the matter." "Damned right." Wolverine growled, only slowly relaxing on repeated insistence from Charles and Jean that they had sufficient control to make his guarding uneccesary.  
  
Negrath had to look back and forth between the three to grasp the situation; somehow, those two spindly humans, one apparently unable to walk, held this beast of a man without even being near him? And without apparent effort either, as Imoen's query of why she didn't sense their magic was answered readily by Jean; "It's not magic. Not as such, though we do use our minds as much as you, if not more."  
  
"Try 'all'." Rogue added helpfully. "They're telepaths. They want you to keep silent or still, you do, or they make you."  
  
"Rogue, stop trying to intimidate them. I have a feeling it won't work." Storm chided lightly, smiling at Negrath; "Will it?"  
  
"He just fought me, and lost." Callisto offered, grin in place and growing; "Think you're worse?"  
  
"Lady, any one of us could put you under without breaking a sweat!" Rogue exclaimed, with no trace of anything but genuine surprise.  
  
"Try it, then! YOU!" Unsurprisingly, her challenge was meant for the apparent lord of the newcomers; her sword pointed at Charles as if straining to reach him.  
  
A glance between him and Jean, and Wolverine grew tense again, claws springing back out as he snarled in preparation. Sabertooth, on the other hand, observed the imminent confrontation in the other end of the yard with interest.  
  
At first, it didn't seem to last long. With a perplexed look on her face, Callisto found herself resheathing her blade, and stepping back.  
  
Frowning, Charles closed his eyes in apparent effort; "She's...fighting me."  
  
"Well, of course! Why shouldn't I?"  
  
Arm shaking, her blade rattled as it slowly slunk back out.  
  
"If she gets it out, she'll throw it...and she's good at that." Xena informed them casually, her own blade ready to intercept it should that become an issue.  
  
"Thanks. I didn't think of that." Callisto retorted, giving her a quick grin of amusement.  
  
"You would have." Xena told her wryly.  
  
"Probably." Her realm-companion agreed distractedly, putting both hands on the hilt in a renewed effort to free her blade.  
  
"Oh, no you don't!" Wolverine yelled, bounding across the yard to slam into the woman even as Storm called; "Logan, NO!" The dust clearing from their brief scuffle, Wolverine was straddling the taller woman, one hand holding her head down by her hair, the other curled into a fist at her throat, growling; "Damned lucky for you she knew my name, don't you think? Now don't try that again."  
  
Rogue gliding over to pluck him from the ground and carry him over to Storm, the two stood staring at each other for a moment of embarrassed silence on one side, and annoyed irritation on the other.  
  
"Why, Logan?"  
  
"You know why, Ro. Her next idea would be to admit defeat and toss it anyway. We both know the type."  
  
"It would never have reached him." Storm argued quietly, and Rogue nodded empatichally; so it wouldn't.  
  
"You haven't seen much sword-tossing, have you?" 'Logan' commented.  
  
"I've seen guns turned useless because their bullets never reached their target." His leader pointed out, and he nodded, glancing over at the duo by Charles, of all people; "Got a point, there...I'd still sleep safer without such cats still wearing their claws. I've got enough with one."  
  
"So do I my friend. So do we all." Storm agreed, smiling, before turning a glare on Callisto; "You will surrender your weapons, or have them taken from you. All of them."  
  
"Like you'd take all of his?" the warrior snorted, gesturing at Sabertooth, who gave a grin and posed; nothing but nature.  
  
"If neccessary." The 'weather godess' replied undisturbed.  
  
Wolverine let his claws snap out and in; no trouble at all.  
  
Chewing on her lip in thought, Callisto then nodded, and set to disentangling herself from such an amount of destructive accessories as would have put a world-class samurai to shame.  
  
"You been talking to a certain asassin aquaintance of ours?" Xena quipped offhandedly, only resheathing her blade when the other dropped hers atop the pile as conclusion.  
  
"No. Should I?"  
  
"Probably not. You'd end up disappointing someone either way."  
  
"Oooh. Sounds like someone worth meeting." Callisto grinned, before turning back to Storm, gesturing at the pile; "If I'm to remove more weapons, you'll need to tell me how to put them back on first."  
  
"That won't be neccessary. Go stand over by Sabertooth."  
  
"He'll kill her!" Jean objected...the only one likely to care enough to do so, by the looks the others gave her; they'd seen enough.  
  
"I doubt it." Xena told them, as the person in question sauntered across the yard toward the man. Once there, they engaged in a minor snarling match, ending with Callisto planting a fist in his groin.  
  
The result seemed to bring surprise from the both of them; Sabertooth blinked at actually feeling it, and Callisto at apparently gaining a new  
  
view of the guy -she smiled at him with demented mischief in her eyes.  
  
"Oh what a tangled web we weave..." Cyclops muttered as it became clear what they seemed to have done.  
  
*; and no, he would not notice any difference in solidity; I'm running with the 'partial phasing'-technique; thus, she'd become solid as she stepped out, not afterwards. 


	4. And yet another

"Out of my way, you big oaf!" Blinking in surprise as a stick swiped warningly at their backs, Cyclops  
and Jean stepped to either side, looking over their shoulders  
inquisitively. Charles turned his chair around to find out who had followed them in, and with a slight smile suggested telepathically for them all to move to the  
side of the entrance, following suit the next moment.  
As the curtain of bodies stepped aside, Negrath and co were rather unsurprised to find Jaheira looking distastefully at the withdrawing X-men. Her path clear, she stomped past as if they weren't there; "What is it this  
time?"  
  
"What is what?" the lord inquired innocently.  
  
"These." The druid replied with some heat, "These dressed-up, overgrown  
citydwellers! Haven't we been bothered enough by such fools?"  
  
"If I hang around ruling as I have, we likely will end up ruling a  
makeshift city ourselves." He argued soothingly. It didn't work;  
"Not with me around, you won't. Now who are these...these...dimension-  
hopping clowns?"  
  
"You knew they were from elsewhere?"  
  
"You saying that," she pointed at wolverine, "is today's fashion in Amn?"  
  
"Ah, no." Negrath acknowledged with a grin, inwardly relieved to see the man partake of the general, low-toned amusement her comment brought in his  
group.  
  
"Well, then what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Who are they?!?"  
  
"Something wrong, Jaheira? This isn't like you..."  
  
"I'll be damned the day I need to be told what's 'me' or not, child.  
Currently I want to know who they are!"  
  
-"What does it matter?" Viconia shot in, her gaze intent as Jaheira closed  
her eyes, knotted fists shaking as she muttered angrily to herself.  
  
"Let's just say..." she breathed at last, still appearing to work on her  
anger-management, and not really looking at the other woman, "that it  
does."  
  
"We are known as the X-Men among our own...though..." Charles began, but closed his mouth an instant before Jaheira interrupted him, exlaiming in  
immense relief "THANK you!"  
Turning to him she added off-handedly;  
"Any idea how such folk came here?"  
  
"Unfortunately, all we know is that there's a good thing not more of us  
'folk' came with us."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
-"..."  
  
From the increase in level of noise from the group, it seemed unusual that  
the man had no immediate reply. Negrath found that easy to believe; something about the man exuded a degree of knowledge that knew no bounds.  
That he should be brought to silence in conversation seemed impossible.  
**Then again,** Negrath though with an idle smile, **he's up against  
Jaheira the Protector...**  
  
"You don't know, do you? DO YOU?"  
  
"I...must admit to not having much experience this 'dimension-hopping, but  
I assure you that if others of our kind had..."  
  
"You Would Not Know."  
  
"...Theoretically, no."  
  
"YOU WOULD NOT!"  
  
"Hey, chuck...?" Wolverine commented, grin making it clear he found quite the bit of amusement in the whole affair...more than his teammates, at any  
rate.  
"Yes, Logan?"  
"I think you might want to cut the preaching and theorising with this  
one...she seems to be the direct type of girl."  
  
"Girl?"  
The tone of the druid's retort had the grin wiped of his face in an  
instant, replaced by a unmistakable frown of 'uh-oh'.  
"Dare I ask your age, good sir?"  
  
"Wolverine has a shaded past, but it is estimated that he'd be in the  
sixties at worst...his healing factor can..."  
  
"Sixties? SIXTIES?"  
  
"So I've been told." The man in question muttered in some annoyance,  
evidently regretting ever speaking up.  
  
"Boy," Jaheira began, stressing the definition far beyond all reason, "I have survived nearly two generations of humans...that I have bothered to  
know of!"  
  
"That makes you, what? 110? 120?" Rogue hazarded, her smile no hiding place  
for a clear intent to remove the pressure from her friend.  
"You keep well, but come on..."  
  
"I was beyond my 200's the last time I bothered to remember...that was before I ever met this guy, who at the time of our meeting were a fumbling  
idiot of barely two decades." The statement made with trademark certainty, it also was accompanied with a  
forced calmness that only helped impress upon them the error of their  
thoughts.  
  
"His words, not hers." Imoen added, as Jean openened her mouth to protest  
the namecalling.  
"Quite so." The druid nodded, beating Negrath himself to it.  
  
"Where were we?" Viconia grinned, before tossing a glance over her shoulder  
at the 'prisoners' as if pondering a 'playing'-session with them.  
  
"We were establishing our ignorance of who might have followed us here." Xavier replied evenly, offering a slight nod of acknowledgement at Jaheira, who gave another stiff nodd by way of response before turning to glare at  
Storm;  
"And how many of our other potential vistiors are like you?"  
  
"Like...me?"  
  
-"LIKE YOU!"  
  
-"I would think she is referring to your bonds with nature, 'Ro." Logan commented, then looked as if he might slap a hand to his face. As nothing  
seemed to explode in his face, he relaxed...slightly.  
"To be sure. How many?" Jaheira drove on, barely noticing the man.  
  
"Depends, I guess...what you mean by 'nature'."  
  
"All that grows, or affect what grows without the fumbling of 'thinking'  
folk."  
  
"I see...then there might be one or two...and some more that might affect  
it through more indirect ways..."  
  
"No solid number?"  
  
"Naturally not, as there is no way all our friends and foes could have  
entered this...plane?"  
  
"I would prefer 'realm'." The druid offered, almost friendly now that she  
was getting the information she wanted.  
  
"As you say. But there is no way all of them could end up here with us."  
  
"How many, at most. Like your group." Were the next question, helpfully  
added to to ease understanding.  
  
"Some thirty or forty...some are borderline, some have disappeared, some  
don't normally get near us, and some..." Xavier listed, unconsciously  
falling into 'lecture mode'.  
  
"How many." Jaheira repeated evenly, interrupting him.  
  
"At most?" 'chuck' inquired, blinking a bit in surprise; "I assure you,  
there is no need for..."  
  
"How...Many."  
  
A moment of studious silence, then; "In the higher reaches of 500."  
  
"Does not compute." Imoen interjected as the druid were about to object.  
"You can't jump from 40 to 500 just because 'someone' aint that easy to  
reach...?" "If you're dealing with separate timelines, dimensions, planes, what-have- you...then there can be no real limit to the number of heroes and villains you might meet. How many have you met for instance?" Cyclops contributed,  
turning his red-tinted gaze on Negrath.  
  
"uh...10-20...maybe a few more..." "About fifty, counting particular 'villains'." His sister added helpfully.  
  
"And, being here, we would be in the risk of encountering them as well...no?" the query was directed back at Jaheira, a slight smile tugging  
at the man's lips.  
  
"...acknowledged. But that's a tad too general. I was asking for the number  
of your kind. I know you are not just 'heroes'...and some of you is not  
even that." her gaze at the professor turned pointed for an instant.  
  
"Then we are back to my estimate of 30-40. Beyond that, there is no saying whether their classification is mutant, extradimensional, -teresterial or simply extremely well trained." Xavier replied, back on familiar territory.  
  
"...Understood. Now," turning to Storm, "WHAT was that thrice-cursed,  
balance-wrecking lightshow about!?!"  
  
Taking a surprised step back, the taller woman blinked in confusion;  
"Balance?"  
  
"You saying you do not know the basics of what you're messing with?"  
Jaheira retorted with an oddly disturbing calm.  
  
"Oh...-that- balance. But of course. I cannot..."  
  
"Then why the hells did you do it?!"  
  
"We had some...trouble."Negrath offered helpfully, jabbing a thumb over at  
the pair in the far corner.  
  
Glaring over her shoulder at him, she followed the gesture and turned  
around to stare;  
"By all that is natural..."  
  
"Hands off. He's mine." Callisto called imperiously, to which the druid  
nodded dazedly still staring; "and you're welcome to him..."  
  
Grinning a comment down at the blonde, the beastman found his legs sweeped  
from under him and a blade at his throat. Blinking his surprise, he evidently decided to play nice...just in case. Soon the two were as they had been; more or less quizzically observing the  
goings-on across the courtyard.  
  
"What?" Negrath inquired of his old companion; "What do you see?"  
  
"A monster. A beast beyond all reason. A wretched creation of all the  
world's malice and deceit. A deformed..."  
  
"Yes, yes, not a very nice guy. We know; we've been fighting him and his  
for the last two decades." Wolverine bit in, a hint of annoyance in his  
tone- he were after all not THAT different from the two-legged cat...  
  
"Him...and his?"  
  
"Yeah, he's been stomping around in and out of groups all the while."  
  
"And some people are getting restless as to when that bet's gonna be  
decided." Rogue quipped with a mischievous grin.  
  
"...bet?"  
  
-"Which one of us bites the final dust first." Logan shrugged, only too  
aware neither of them would in any sort of one-on-one confrontation.  
  
"...final?" The query came out with some heat; the woman were getting angry with her  
seemingly endless lack of information.  
  
"Aye." Wolverine grinned; "By the time either of us manage to make a second  
cut, the first will have long since healed."  
  
"Showoff." Rogue coughed, making the druid blink at the curious way of  
commenting.  
  
"At first, sure...but once we get going, we usually remain pure as  
choirboys throughout." Logan smiled wryly. "Your friend there having something similar?" he then asked, glancing over  
at Xena and Gabrielle as he nodded at Callisto.  
"She'll find herself in mighty fine trouble if not."  
  
"She'll manage." Xena replied with sudden weariness; "She always does."  
  
"Really..."  
Turning to look at the woman with renewed curiousity, he grinned  
maliciously; "We'll see..." Lifting his voice; "Why don't you two face off for a bit. Give the rest of  
us something to laugh at?"  
  
"Logan, she'll be torn apart!"  
  
"Either that, or mr. Creed will get himself a mighty big surprise. She appears to be your superior!" he called, counting on the fellow to have  
some pride left.  
  
He did...but try as he might, he could not get hold of her. She on the other hand slashed him up every chance she got, only to gaze in fascination  
as it healed...even as she dodged his 'retort'. As she began trying to cripple him, he found himself on the defensive, long  
since having realized the blade to be uncannily sharp.  
And he who thought only Logan's claws could stand a chance at harming  
him...  
  
Backed up against the wall, growling ferousciously, he glared at the upstart female having toyed so expertly with him. If he didn't know better,  
he'd say his healing factor hurt. She on her side wore one of her wider grins, carving almost idle figures in  
his flesh as if to see how many she could make before they vanished. "Will you stop that!!!" he bellowed at last, uncertain himself if he was  
talking to her or the chucklers over by the gate. By way of response, the chucklers turned into laughers, and Callisto rested on her sword as she lectured; "I do not 'appear' to be anyone's superior. I  
-am-. Are we clear on this now?"  
Taking a couple of deep, cleansing breaths, as if to check whether his healing factor had managed to go the distance, an almost relieved grin, and  
he nodded disinterestedly; sure, fine, whatever.  
  
"Interesting..." Jaheira muttered, not having partaken in the mirth as she  
observed the curious encounter.  
Turning to Wolverine, she queried rhetorically; "And you..."  
"Are pretty much the same, yeah."  
"But civilized." "Some of us like to think so." Storm replied evenly, a frown giving away  
her feelings regarding the insinuation that he might not be.  
"There's civilized, and then there is intelligent." Logan added with a  
smirk, drawing a smile from the druid; "Too true.  
Imoen...?"  
  
"Right on it." The archmage acknowledged, and the next instant they could  
all observe the two Wild Ones' initial entrance to the keep grounds. Jaheira gazed expectantly at it, and then made a sound in the back of her  
throat as the two stood observing each other, unharmed.  
"Impossible."  
  
"Yet evidently not." Logan argued matter-of-factly.  
  
"Evidently." The druid acknowledged, turning to him as she drew a knife  
from her belt.  
  
With a sigh, the X-man straightened, giving a wry grin; "Just don't touch the heart or brain. Them healing hurts like hell...and I'm not sure it even  
goes well."  
A distracted nod, and she swiped the knife across his belly. A strangled noise as he clapped a hand to the wound, holding it closed for an instant, and it was done, it's only trace a slim line cut in the fabric  
of his 'uniform'...which already was severely diminished.  
"Should have guessed." He grumbled darkly, then shrugged; "Care to try  
again?" Mutely shaking her head, the druid sauntered over to a corner where she sat  
down and 'left'.  
  
"Was it something I said?" Logan wondered humorlessly, and Imoen shook her head; "Rather something you didn't do...like spilling your guts all over  
the place and die messily."  
"Gee, thanks." "Don't mention it." The mage chirped merrily, in direct opposition of his  
mock-growl. 


End file.
